Wishes and Gratitude
by storiewriter
Summary: Luke remembers Bespin. Yet another short drabble about the encounter between Father and Son. After ESB, before end of ROTJ.


**A/N**: I admit, I was bored. I needed something to write, and the prompt (below) reminded me of the Bespin encounter between Luke and Vader. Short drabble, enjoy, those of you who actually read this.

Prompt: Use the beginning, "I wish someone told me…"

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**Whishes and Gratitude**

I wish someone told me that my father was a black-clad, lightsaber-carrying Sith Lord.

I wish someone had told me that the above fact was completely fiction, with not a credit's worth of truth.

I wish the second person had not been Obi-Wan, with his 'certain point of view'. The person who had told me in the first place that that monster had

I wish that first someone had _not_ been my father.

There I went, ready to free my friends from the cruel clutch of the murderer of my father, full of courage and recklessness and, now that I look at it, naivety. I went headstrong into the duel, foolishly thinking that I could best him with my half-formed control over the Force, while he had lived with the Dark Side for, I thought, his entire life. Of course, my reasoning was that I was the son of Anakin Skywalker, and that he'd want me to take revenge upon his murderer. I didn't stop to think that revenge was not the Jedi way.

Then I scored a hit after being brutally hit with crates and boxes. What had I said that day? "You'll find I'm full of surprises." Well, turns out, I wasn't the one with the biggest.

He was enraged, immersed fully in the Dark Side, further than he had been before. I now realize that he was holding back, teasing with me, testing me to see how good I actually was with that elegant weapon I had no right to wield. I wasn't good enough with it, but somehow, with my wide, uncoordinated strikes, I had managed to cleave through the shoulder plate and cut skin.

He beat me thoroughly and fully, pushing me back and back until I was balanced on the edge. And then he cut the hand off.

There was pain, yes, but the numbness of not really believing it was actually gone, gone along with the only material inheritance from my father, overrode the pain. All I felt then was numbness.

I edged back, trying to save myself from the great black monstrosity that had killed my father. And then, that conversation that stays burned in my mind, will stay forever engraved in my memory.

"Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."

My reply had been full of hurt and rage. I should've been able to suppress the rage, if not the pain. But no, my shields were gone and so was my training, all the learning invested in me. "He told me enough. He told me you killed him!"

The next words were what solidified the few lines in my remembrance, even as I muse over this. Mental trauma added to already great physical trauma.

"No. _I_ am your father."

I hadn't even realized that the scream, raw and bloody, had come from me. The utter denial, the frantic mind. My world had been shattered by those four simple words, blown into oblivion. I wonder how I managed to pick up the pieces.

And deep inside, I knew it was true. At the time, it scared me. To tell the truth, it still does to a certain extent. But, as I talked to the ghost of my first mentor, I realized that I could take the final step and forgive him.

Because as I fell, I felt the sorrow and slight heartbreak. I think he may have helped me catch onto that pole when I called for Leia for help.

Leia… I remember.

"Leia…Leia's my sister!" I exclaimed, in half disbelief. The kiss won't go away, though I admit at the time it felt…wrong…

"Bury your feelings down, young Luke. They do you credit, but they could be made to serve the Emperor."

Had I been less wise and experienced, I would've had to bite back a scathing reply that I 'wasn't young'. But I knew I was very young, and still very inexperienced.

"I can't fight him," I had said. "He's my father."

And so he was.

Out of a dream, I remembered my statement. "There's still good in him."

There was. There was the warring conflict between light and dark, the day and night. I wondered whether he'd always had that happening, but now it seemed to have grown since Bespin.

I almost joined him, you know. I nearly did, out of despair and longing. But being a Jedi has come first and foremost.

I can only be grateful that the _Falcon_ had managed to go into hyperspace before my will shattered into slivers of glass.

I can only be grateful that I have a sister, and if I fail, for I know there's a chance, there'll be another hope for the Galaxy.

I can only be grateful that my sister has a strong will and, despite the temperament I have a sneaking suspicion comes from our father, she'll stay strong throughout everything.

I can only be grateful that Anakin lives, however little.

Because that may be the only thing that saves me.


End file.
